Lainey Wilson - Sunday Best Lyrics

Well, I pulled up
To that church of Christ
With a broken heart
And bloodshot eyes
Too hungover to go inside
So, I hung my head and drove on by

And I don't feel like Hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds
Drinking in my Sunday best

Thought I really, really knew him well
He was the one, far as I could tell
But last night I caught him with somebody else
And yeah, that preacher's son can go to hell

And I don't feel like Hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds
Drinking in my Sunday best

And yeah, I know that I'll get over him in time
But right now forgiveness ain't something I can find

And I don't feel like Hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds
Drinking, and I'm a mess
Yeah, I'm drinking in my Sunday best

When I pulled up to that church of Christ
Oh, I'm gonna be here just drinking
You're somethin' silly
Hell, Jesus turned water to wine
Mm, pour me another one, hahaha
Whoo, I'm drunk